


Games, Jokes, and Other Things That Get You in Trouble with Your RWB (Rival With Benefits)

by FourthFloorWrites



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, drinking game gone serious, ending up in a feelings talk bc your communication sucks, nebulous time and place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourthFloorWrites/pseuds/FourthFloorWrites
Summary: “Oh, come on, Ratch,” Rodimus said, leaning forward to try to grab his cube back. “Won’t even drink this time. Just like playing with you.”
Relationships: Ratchet/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Games, Jokes, and Other Things That Get You in Trouble with Your RWB (Rival With Benefits)

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for rarepair week. Forgot about it the day of, then got distracted halfway through posting it yesterday, so here it finally is, way late :P Ah well. Prompt was Disclosure/Memory.

“Okay, okay, my turn,” Rodimus hiccupped as he lowered the half-empty cube, catching it on the edge of the table and splattering the floor with Carpacian Blue.

“No, you’re done,” Ratchet said, taking the cube and setting it aside. He was just overcharged enough that he had to think the movements through, keeping an optic on his hand until he was sure there was no more danger of him making a bigger mess.

“Oh, come on, Ratch,” Rodimus said, leaning forward to try to grab his cube back. “Won’t even drink this time. Just like playing with you.”

Ratchet dropped his arm between Rodimus’ hand and the last drops of engex.

“You’re going to be miserable in the morning,” he warned.

“Aw, you gonna take care of me like a good sparkmate?”

“I’m hardly going to be doing any better.”

Rodimus got his hand on Ratchet’s elbow and tried to pull them closer together. Ratchet, though, refused to budge, so Rodimus had to content himself with scooting over and leaning heavily against his shoulder.

“You’ve barely had anything,” he said. “You’re too good at these games.”

“I’ve been playing a lot longer than you, and with much more competitive bots. You know how many petroleum shots Thunderclash can take if you tell him it’s a competition?” That earned him an amused snort and he smirked in response, adjusting himself so he could wrap an arm around Rodimus’ waist. “Regardless, I’m more worried about recharge. You volunteered to cover during Megatron’s psyche eval, remember?”

“Yeah…? Oh frag, what time is—” Rodimus groaned as he checked his chronometer. “This shift’s gonna _suck_.”

“Come here.” Ratchet took Rodimus’ hand and popped open his carpal access panel with practiced ease. “I’ll get the pain patch set up now. Run it when you come online, _if_ you remember it’s there.”

“You’ll remind me, won’t you?”

“If you wake me up before gamma, I will personally oversee your processor melted down in the nearest smelter.” He plugged himself in and started to upload the patch, letting a few spare processing threads leak through to make it clear he was kidding.

“Ratchet!” Rodimus yelped anyway, rolling onto his back so he could stare up pathetically while dragging Ratchet’s hand across his chest. It might have been tempting, were they not both overcharged and exhausted. “You only love me for my processor?”

“There are some valuable materials in there,” Ratchet said, tapping Rodimus’ helm with one finger. “The amount of palladium alone could trade for a decent crate of high grade.” He felt his smile grow gentle as the hand he had connected to Rodimus spread across his chest. “Your spark, though… I’m afraid I couldn’t get much for that. I’d just keep it for myself, I think.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“Yep.” The upload finished, so Ratchet unplugged himself and respooled his cable. “Finally, you’re starting to get it.”

“You hid it, for a while,” Rodimus said. He must have been overcharged, if he was willing to talk so freely about his insecurities. Normally it took some vulnerability on Ratchet’s part and a good cry before he was willing to divulge whatever was bothering him.

“No, I’ve never hid how I felt about you,” he said, moving his hand up to Rodimus’ neck and stroking the cables. “Was just wrong for a while.”

“You can’t be _wrong_ about a feeling.”

“I was.” Ratchet saw the way Rodimus’ optics started to flicker and knew where this was headed. Rather than risk falling into recharge at the table, he got his hands under Rodimus and heaved him up, pushing until the other bot had no choice but to continue sitting up under his own power.

“ _Ra_ tchet,” he whined.

“Berth,” he replied, in a tone that brooked no argument. Rodimus recognized it and relented, getting his pedes under him as he wobbled upward. Ratchet rose to his side, wrapping an arm under his shoulders to steady him, and counted down the steps to the berth.

Four steps. Three steps. Two.

“Let’s play one more round,” he said.

“Ratch—? Why?” Rodimus looked at him, his nose brushing Ratchet’s jaw.

“Because I want to,” he said as Rodimus leaned over the berth and crawled on, rolling over so he could watch Ratchet sit down with a degree more dignity. He did not settle yet, reaching out to cup Rodimus’ helm and stroke a thumb across his finial, his cheek. Their optics met, Rodimus’ wide and brighter than they had been moments before.

“Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

“Do you consider me your sparkmate?” Ratchet asked.

Rodimus’ lips pulled into something thin and uncomfortable.

“Do you?” he asked.

“That’s not how the game works.”

“Yeah, but—but this isn’t fun.”

Ratchet hummed.

“It was just supposed to be fun,” he said, thumb still but hand in place.

“Wait—okay, wait hold up,” Rodimus said, leveraging himself back upright. His momentum was too much for his engex-ridden processor and he almost pitched himself forward before he caught himself. “Frag, I’m too sloshed for this. Give me a…” He blinked, and when his optics came back online, the glow was steadier, his wavering posture tensing into something more controlled. He made to grab Ratchet’s hovering hand, hesitated, then went for it anyway.

“Do you want to stop? Is it not fun anymore?” he asked.

“I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Ratchet said. He was resisting the urge to pull Rodimus to his side again. “What you’re talking about is a relationship, Rodimus. A commitment.”

“What _I’m_ talking about?” Rodimus repeated, his expression pinching into confusion. “I was just making a joke, Ratch. Didn’t expect you to think anything of it.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you don’t—okay, no, you do care,” he admitted, before they could get into another argument over whether Rodimus was worth being cared for. Ratchet always inevitably won that one. “But not like _that_. You said yourself, it’s a commitment, and there’s no reason for you to want something like that with me.”

“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” Ratchet asked. His hand squeezed around Rodimus’. “Is that what you want?”

Rodimus hesitated. He bit his lip while his optics traveled up to the ceiling before slamming back down onto Ratchet.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and tight.

“Okay,” Ratchet said with a nod. Now he did pull Rodimus closer, freeing his hand so he could wrap around the lithe bot in a hug. He pressed a kiss to Rodimus’ temple. “We can try it.”

“We can?” Rodimus asked.

“I’d like to,” Ratchet said, his spark warming as nervous hands came up to return the embrace. “I do love you. Whether that translates to a workable partnership is something we can only learn through experience.” Like all new relationships, it was a risk, but one that Rodimus made worthwhile.

“Love you too, Ratch,” Rodimus said as he tucked his face against Ratchet’s neck, pressing what might have been a kiss against the delicate cables. “I’m scared of hurting you, and I feel like that’s way more likely if you go and start trusting me like this.”

“I already trust you,” Ratchet said. “We do need to get better at communicating, though.”

“I guess we could start by talking through exactly what we mean by sparkmates,” Rodimus said. He pulled back and Ratchet finally saw his shy, hopeful smile. “In the morning. After you wake me up to remind me about the pain patch.”

“I already told you, I’m not—“

“Aw, but Ratch,” Rodimus said, flopping backward onto the berth with his arms outstretched in invitation. “Isn’t that what a good gentlemech would do for his poor, hungover sparkmate?”

Ratchet pulled himself the rest of the way onto the berth and settled in Rodimus’ arms, grumbling the whole way.

“Don’t expect to make a habit of this,” he warned.

“Course,” Rodimus said as the lights in the room dimmed and he snuggled close, the warmth of his engine bleeding out through his plating.

Ratchet pulled their frames close together and sighed. His spark had been thrumming with nervous energy, but it settled as he felt Rodimus’ frame relax against his own. They fit well together, he thought. Not perfectly, not at first, but close enough that with a bit of thought they had made it work.

It was hardly a perfect analogy for a relationship, but he took it as a comfort as he settled into recharge, Rodimus at his side.


End file.
